by now teya understood the tight hierarchy of the empire. she herself was too shy to do more than flit at the edges of the vale, some wary wide-eyed butterfly who comprehended little and heard less. tighter and tighter teya locked herself away, until at last she finally set foot outside the borders.
for each path away from reiko's court, there were seven others: deer-trails, the rutmarks of sheep, mysterious moonlit corridors of white stone. and so she wandered, no less leery of all but her shadow.
"teya ishtar," the muted girlish thing whispered to herself, as a downpour forced her shrinking greypumpkin self into the lee of some rock face. it had only lessened, not ended, when she found herself spent of several hours, slipping slowly down muddied scree to collapse at the edge of wild willows where she panted for breath.